


Wanted

by Pikelet184



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Breaking the Law, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Married Couple, Married Life, Romance, Sexual Fantasy, Stealing, mores2sl fall 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-09-19 08:38:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9430664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pikelet184/pseuds/Pikelet184
Summary: Modern AU: Young newlyweds Katniss and Peeta live a simple life in their hometown of Victors County; a life filled with family, friends and the love they have for each other. But an unexpected turn of events, and a brush with the law, puts their relationship – and their sex life – to the test. And afterwards, nothing will be the same.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story for @mores2sl back in October 2016 - it's a charity that helps children fighting cancer. So many fantastic authors and artists contributed a piece to this worthy cause so keep an eye out as it may happen again this year. 
> 
> Anyway we can now publish our works so I would like to take the opportunity to thank @sponsormusings and @papofglencoe for being amazing betas and friends. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think - I would love to hear from you. Enjoy!

“Oh, dammit!” Katniss shrieks, dropping her knife next to the half-chopped parsley and running over to the stove to pull the burning pot of stew off the gas burner. Placing it carefully on the sink, she grabs a wooden spoon, hoping the meal is still salvageable - but very quickly she realises the food smells like charcoal and the bottom of the pot is singed black. Tears of frustration threaten to fall at the corners of her eyes and she lets out a sigh of defeat. Swiftly, she scrapes the burnt remnants into the nearby trash can and throws the pot into the sink with some hot water and detergent. She determinedly scrubs away her failed mess and prepares herself to start all over again. _You can do this, Katniss. You may not be a domestic goddess, but surely you can cook a meal for your husband._

 

From the small kitchen, she hears the front door open and then close with a heavy bang. She doesn’t need to look up to know whose familiar footsteps are heading into the nearby living room, the occupant parking themselves on her couch. The sound of the television switching on breaks the quietness of the house. Since it’s Wednesday and it’s the finale of _The Real Housewives of the Capitol,_ she was expecting him to drop by. “You’re like clockwork, Finnick,” she calls out. “And hello to you too.”

 

“Hey,” he calls back distractedly, already engrossed with the opening credits.

 

Katniss shakes her head, continuing to scrub at the base of the pot with vigour. She can’t believe how sucked into that show he is. Out of boredom she’d tried to watch a couple of episodes with him over the season, but it had always left a bad taste in her mouth. The affluent women on that show live in a completely different world than what she’s used to. She’d found it impossible to find anything in common with them - a bunch of dolled up fake housewives whose only mission in life seemed to be dressing up for their husbands and shopping for a new plastic surgeon.

 

It’s a far cry from Victors County, the small and friendly town she lives in. With the population standing at just over a thousand people, the county is well-known in Panem for its large, luscious woodlands, and its wide range of rare and exotic animals. The Mockingjay in particular drew people from far and wide; an unusual bird unique to the area, it was a symbol of hope, appealing to people with the mythology attached to it that if you ever cross paths with one, you’ll live a long and happy life. The townsfolk themselves believe the myth, but rarely see the bird; tourists eager for the sight of the good omen even less. It doesn’t lessen the appeal behind the Mockingjay, though - if anything, it makes the sighting of one of them even more of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

 

The people of Victors County are a proud and hardworking bunch, where everybody knows everybody else. It’s a place you’d feel comfortable enough to leave your windows and doors unlocked, and where friendly neighbors can come inside and make themselves comfortable. There might be the odd scandal here or there, like the time Mr Mellark left his wife and family and ran off with the local barmaid, or when Sheriff Abernathy got so drunk at the town fair that he fell off the stage - or like last year, when her cousin Gale rigged the Christmas raffle with 42 entries so he’d win first prize, a professional bow and arrow set. Even with its quirks and eccentricities, Katniss loves Victors County. It offers the quiet and peaceful life she prefers - she grew up here and met and married the love of her life here. It’s simply home.

 

“Hey, Kat, do you have any potato chips?” Finnick asks, sauntering into the kitchen and breaking her out of her thoughts, before wrinkling his nose in disgust. “Eurgh, what’s that smell?”

 

Katniss turns and gives him a scowl. “My attempt at an anniversary dinner.”

 

“Your anniversary isn’t until Saturday.” He opens the pantry door and ducks his head inside.

 

“I know that, but I need to practice. It’s a complicated recipe.”

 

“Well, with that smell wafting through the kitchen, I think it’s safe to say you failed,” he smirks, pulling out a large bag of salt and vinegar chips.

 

“Thanks for your support,” she replies back sarcastically.

 

“Anytime.” He winks playfully and rips open the bag. “Why don’t you just get Peeta to make it?”

 

“Because I want it to be a surprise,” Katniss defends, becoming annoyed. “I owe him - he’s always making me delicious dinners and coming up with any reason to spoil me.” She reaches over and pulls out a handful of chips for herself, popping them in her mouth and swallowing before continuing. “We’ve been married for a year, and I want to do something special for him.” She picks up an old and wrinkled piece of paper from the counter. “This recipe belonged to his Grandma Sae. His Mom told me he loved it as a kid, so I thought it would be nice if I recreated it for him.”

 

“That sounds like a great idea, but don’t be too hard on yourself,” Finnick replies through a mouthful. “Remember the guy is absolutely smitten with you. In fact, you could serve him a bowl of soup filled with wild dog and he’d still ask for seconds. I’ve never seen a guy more committed – it’s kind of sickening.”

 

Katniss’ mouth curls into a smile, and she feels warmth radiating through her heart at Finnick’s words. Even though they’d been together for six years and had lost their virginities to each other on their wedding night almost a year ago, she still feels like they’re in the honeymoon stage of their relationship - like they can’t keep their hands off each other and a day apart is a day too long. She knows how lucky she is, and she sometimes has to pinch herself in order to remind herself that it’s all real. 

 

“I just find it hilarious,” Finnick cuts in, breaking her out of her stupor - she didn’t realise he was still talking. “That Peeta teaches cooking classes every Wednesday night down at the rec centre, and yet here you are, his wife, who can’t cook.” He chuckles loudly, his bright eyes glinting in amusement. “Why don’t you go to the classes with him? I’m sure he'd give you a discount.”

 

“Why don’t you get your cable fixed and stop coming over here to watch my TV and eat all my chips?!” She retorts back, snatching the bag away.

 

“Oh, hey, don’t be like that,” he pouts. “I was just kidding…sort of.”

 

“Out of my kitchen,” she snaps back, but there’s no real malice behind her words. Finnick has been a good friend to both of them ever since he moved to town during their teen years. It was because of his advice and influence that Peeta finally found the courage to reveal to her his soul-consuming crush and asked her out. So no matter how much Finnick annoys her, she can never stay mad at him for too long.

 

“Okay, okay,” he says, raising his hands up in surrender and backing out of the room. “I know when I’m not wanted. I’ll be in the living room perving on Cashmere Cardello’s ass if you need me.”

 

Rolling her eyes, Katniss turns back towards the kitchen counter, relieved he’s finally out of her hair, and looks down at the handwritten recipe. A new sense of determination settles in her bones, and she begins pulling out a second lot of ingredients - she’s glad she thought of buying double of everything when she was at the market yesterday. As she cuts up the lamb, her mind concentrates on the task at hand, and she doesn’t hear her cell phone ring nearby. It takes a few moments of the phone’s idle default tune to break her out of her concentration. With a distracted sigh, and wondering who else wants to disturb her tonight, she reaches for the phone, not bothering to check the caller I.D. “Hello.”

 

“Sweetheart,” a gruff and familiar voice announces from the other end. “You need to come and pick up your boy from the station.”

 

“You’re never one for pleasantries, are you Haymitch?” She asks sarcastically before realising what he’s just said. “Wait! Did you say Peeta’s at the station?” Her eyes go wide in fear, and she starts thinking the worst. “What happened? Is he alright? Is he hurt?”

 

“He’s fine, just a little red-faced,” he replies back shortly. “We were all pretty shocked when Darius brought him in to be processed.”

 

“ _Processed?_ What do you mean?”

 

“He’s been arrested, sweetheart.” He immediately follows his words with a juicy belch. “You need to come and bail him out.”

 

Katniss stands there blankly for a moment, the only movement coming from her chest due to her heavy breathing. _Have I heard right? This can’t be real. Surely it has to be a prank he’s pulling. Yes – that’s it. She wouldn’t put it past Haymitch to do something like this._ She manages to find her voice again. “Very funny, Haymitch. Did none of Mrs Hawthorne’s geese escape for you today, so you had to find another way to amuse yourself?” She switches the phone over to her other ear, flipping her dark braid out of the way. “I can’t believe you thought this was going to work – everyone knows Peeta teaches a class on Wednesday nights, if you –”

 

“Just get your ass down here, Katniss,” he cuts her off sternly. “This isn’t a joke. I’ll explain when you get here.” The line abruptly falls dead. She puts her phone on the counter slowly, immediately realising Haymitch is telling the truth. He rarely uses that tone of voice around her and he _certainly_ never calls her by her first name unless it’s something serious. _Shit. What on earth has Peeta done?_ With the stew now forgotten and her heart beating anxiously, she grabs her purse and walks out into the living room. She stands there in a daze for a moment, trying to make sense of it all. Her mind boggles as it sifts through a number of ideas and endless possibilities in figuring out what Peeta could have done - but each scenario becomes more and more unlikely.

 

“Was that Peet?” Finnick calls out, his eyes still locked on the screen. “Tell him to bring home some leftovers.”

 

Katniss turns to face the back of Finnick’s head, staring at his styled bronze hair, still speechless. After a few moments of heavy silence he turns to her, wondering why she hasn’t answered him. Immediately, he does a double take and is on his feet, concern etching his entire face. “Hey, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  


Her mouth feels like it’s been stuffed with cotton wool, and she licks her lips, her voice baffled when she finally speaks. “Peeta’s been arrested - that was Haymitch on the phone.”

 

Finnick’s eyes widen for a moment, but then quickly narrow with doubt. “No way. It’s got to be some kind of prank.”

 

“Apparently not. I’ve got to go and bail him out,” she answers croakily, not recognising her own voice.

 

Finnick opens his mouth and then closes it again, clearly struggling to grasp the situation. “Wait a minute, so you’re telling me _the_ Peeta Mellark, the golden boy of Victors County, has been arrested?”

 

Katniss nods her head slowly.

 

“What did he do? Steal some old lady’s cookie recipe?”

 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she tells him with an exasperated sigh. “I have to go.”

 

Finnick’s confused eyes suddenly widen in glee, and his mouth curls up into a wicked grin. “If what you’re saying is true, I have to see this for myself.” And, without a backwards glance, he races to the front door like his shoes are made of springs. Katniss sighs and follows slowly behind him, clearly not having the enthusiastic energy to follow his lead. She doesn’t know what to say or think - she just needs to see her husband.

 

\---------------

 

As Katniss and Finnick get out of the car and walk side by side down the path leading to the entrance of Victors County Police Station, Katniss tries to block out another outrageous theory Finnick has come up with about Peeta’s arrest. For the eight-minute drive to the station, she had to put up with him spouting off all sorts of ideas and assumptions, each of them growing wilder and more absurd by the second. Instead of biting back in retaliation, which is what she really wanted to do, she’d just kept a tight grip on the steering wheel and had stared out the windscreen, hoping Peeta wasn’t in too much trouble. The whole thing was out of character for him, and she was finding it difficult to get her head around it. 

 

“…Maybe he’s been putting marijuana in his muffins. I always thought they tasted too good,” he rattles off excitedly. “Or maybe the whole bakery thing is a front. He could be using the bakery to smuggle drugs and launder money…”

 

“Finnick –”

 

“He could have been fooling us all for years, Kat,” he cuts her off. “We know he’s a good actor, and with his wholesome, good-boy image, he could have been living a double life all this time.” He lowers his voice and leans down closer to whisper in her ear. “He could have another wife who –”

 

“Shut up, Finnick,” she says through gritted teeth, finally having enough, and pushing the front door open with more force than was necessary. “You’re not helping matters, and you’re being ridiculous,” she reprimands. “I’ve known Peeta and his family since he was five years old. He does not have a secret life.”

 

“Shame,” he says, following her inside. “It might have livened things up around here.”

 

Ignoring his disappointed tone, she directs her attention to the familiar middle-aged man who she’s known since she was born, sitting at his desk with his feet propped up and taking a swig from his flask. _Typical._ “Haymitch, where is he?”

 

He looks up at her and pockets his flask. “You’re not too good with the pleasantries either, sweetheart,” he smirks. “Nice to see you finally made it. Your boy will be happy to see you.” He gets up from his chair and sways slightly towards them.

 

“Can we just skip the usual routine so you can tell me why you’ve arrested my husband?” She demands. “I’d like to get a clear answer from you before you fall down and become incoherent.”

 

“You know you can be really ungrateful sometimes. I’m here working hard, trying to fix your little problem, and all I get is insults,” he slurs back.

 

She can feel her patience running thin with the two men next to her, so she leans her elbows on top of the counter, lowering her head into her hands to massage her temples. She’s getting a headache, and she knows she needs to calm down and control her emotions. Now is not the time to get into her regular slinging matches with Haymitch - even though he deserves it – and she needs to concentrate on her husband. She lifts her head, ready to ask him about Peeta, when Finnick does it for her.

 

“So what did Golden Boy do? Drive 30 miles below the speed limit?”

 

Haymitch stares at each of them for a moment before answering, his grey eyes now turned hard and serious. “He was caught stealing public property.”

 

“Stealing?” Katniss splutters out. “No, this is a mistake. My husband would never steal _anything_. Where’s your proof?”

 

With a curl of his lips, Haymitch walks back over to his desk with purpose and picks up a long, white, rectangular-sized object.

 

“This was found in his possession,” he says, throwing the item in front of them. It lands on the counter with a metallic clatter.  “And before you suggest that maybe he just stumbled across it innocently, Darius watched the whole thing – from him climbing the post, unscrewing it, and walking back with it to his car.”

 

In sync, both Katniss and Finnick lower their gazes to identify the object. After a moment, she raises her eyes back up, her mouth open in disbelief, and Finnick lets out a hearty chuckle.

 

“Oh my god,” he calls out in amusement, his whole body shaking with uncontrolled laughter. “There’s no way you can fight these charges, Kat.” He points down at the object. “It’s right there in black and white.”

 

Her eyes narrow in confusion. “It’s a street sign,” she states slowly to Haymitch.

 

“It’s _your_ street sign,” Haymitch answers back roughly. Even though there’s a hint of authority in his voice, she is reassured by a tiny glint in his eyes, which show he’s clearly amused by tonight’s events.

 

“That’s so sweet,” Finnick mocks, placing an exaggerated hand over his heart. “ ** _Katniss Lane_**.” He feigns a loving voice. “Oh, he stole a street sign for you - now that’s love, Kat.”

 

Katniss looks down at the sign again, and before she can say anything a small, relieved laugh escapes her. Immediately, she feels the tension that had been digging its way under her skin ever since the phone call lift from her shoulders and float away. She’s thankful that Peeta didn’t do anything too serious - not that she really thought he was capable of doing anything bad. But clearly his love for her has somewhat blinded him to his moral beliefs, inspiring him to break the law. She’s very interested to know how her usually-law abiding husband came up with this idea.

 

“Can I see him?”

 

“He’s in a cell.” Haymitch indicates the direction with his head. “Out back.”

 

Katniss and Finnick waste no time walking to the back of the station. Turning down a hallway they find a large, grey cell in the middle of the room. Looking through the metal bars they see a single occupant, dressed in black and sitting down on a concrete block – they’re slumped forward with their face hidden in the palm of their hands. She’d recognise that distinctive blonde hair anywhere, having spent most of her days watching him smooth and style it down, as he hates looking scruffy. At the moment, though, the ends are sticking up on all sides like he’s been running his hands through it - she knows he only does that when he’s stressed or nervous. She can’t see his face, but she can imagine its features are etched with worry and shame. As she moves closer she notices his body is shaking.

 

“Peeta.”

 

He instantly raises his head at the sound of her voice, his worried blue eyes meeting her quicksilver grey ones in a flash. Katniss notes the blotches of red surrounding them and wonders if he’s been crying. “Katniss,” he answers in relief, getting up and walking quickly to the other side of the bars.

 

“Now this is something I never thought I would see,” Finnick pipes up playfully, breaking the nervous tension. He folds his arms across his chest with a smirk, clearly entertained by the sight of his best friend in a jail cell.

 

Peeta ignores him and stares intently at his wife. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t be mad at me,” he whispers - almost painfully, like he’s terrified about what she’s going to say.

 

“I’m not mad,” she reassures him, because really she’s not. She’s more confused than anything else and wondering how on earth he got himself into this mess. “I’m curious to know how my husband, who’s won the county’s good service and citizenship award since he was sixteen years old, now finds himself arrested for stealing.”

 

Peeta closes his eyes like he’s suffering a physical pain and lowers his head in shame.

 

“I think your winning streak might be over now, buddy,” Finnick chimes in. “Small town gossip and all.”

 

Peeta lets out a frustrated groan, and Katniss turns and gives him a pointed look. “Shut up, Finnick.”

 

“Okay, okay.” Finnick pretends to zip his lip and takes a couple of steps back. He pulls out his phone, pretending to give them some privacy.

 

A few moments of silence go by before Peeta lifts his head to face her again. His features alarm her, showing a vulnerability that Katniss has never witnessed in him before. Normally Peeta is outgoing and has an air of confidence about him, but right now he looks like a scared little boy.

  


She tries to give him a reassuring smile, hoping to convey she’s always on his side no matter what. “Do you want to tell me why you did it?” She asks gently. “I’m assuming the street sign is for me?” She adds jokingly.

 

He gives a tight smile in response. “I’ve been racking my brain for weeks trying to think of something to get you for our anniversary,” he explains, his voice thick and hoarse. “But nothing seemed good enough.” The tension in his face falls and softens. “I wanted to give you something that showed you that you’re my heart and soul.”

 

Katniss feels her heart melt at his words, and a broad smile stretches across her face. Whereas she’s never been good with words or expressing her feelings, Peeta has always had a silver tongue. Words seem to come to him as easily as breathing. He can spin words of love and devotion and wrap them together in an extravagant bow and deliver them to her along with a bouquet of dandelions. How on earth did she get so lucky?

 

“Peeta, I already know. You show me every day,” she replies softly.

 

“I just wanted to do something different, and then I spoke to Johanna about it -”

 

“Jo?! You spoke to _Jo_ about this?” She asks, annoyance filling her body at the thought that he would take advice from the town’s rebel and trouble-maker. “Well, no wonder you’re in here.”

 

“She’s your best friend. I thought she could help,” he defends. “But yeah, in hindsight it probably wasn’t the best idea,” he breathes out sheepishly, running a hand through his messy locks.

 

“So it was her idea for you to steal a street sign with my name on it?”

 

“No, that was my idea, actually.” Katniss swears his eyes flash back at her proudly for a moment before quickly dimming and turning serious again. “She said I should do something dangerous and spontaneous, that risking my life would show how much I love you.”

 

Katniss shakes her head. “This is ridiculous - you didn’t have to do all this.” She puts her hands on his that are currently wrapped around the rusted bars. “I never want you risking your life or your reputation for me,” she says empathetically.

 

“I thought it would be romantic,” he answers back, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. “And you know I would do all that for you in a heartbeat -”

 

“Oh my god!” Finnick cuts in, looking up from his phone. “You guys are getting more sickening and nauseating by the day.” He makes a dramatic barfing sound.

 

“You’re just jealous, Finn, that you haven’t found the love of your life yet,” Peeta shoots back, not missing a beat.

 

“And I’ll feel sorry for them when that day does come around,” Katniss adds.

 

“Haha, you guys are a regular comedy duo, aren’t you? Finnick replies, feigning annoyance. “By the way, did you know that Victors County Police Station is not recognised by Facebook? Isn’t that bullshit?” 

 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Katniss asks, looking over at him in confusion.

 

“I need to update my status,” he replies simply, looking at her like she just asked what color the sky is.

 

“Are you checking yourself into the police station?” Peeta asks, his voice rising in pitch.

 

“I was _trying_ to check us all in, but stupid Facebook won’t cooperate.” He sneers down at his phone in annoyance.

 

“Oh my god, Finnick,” Peeta shouts. “This isn’t funny! I don’t want people knowing about this – it’s embarrassing enough! When I get out of here, I’m going to kill you,” he tells him through gritted teeth, clearly upset.

  


The threat doesn’t seem to bother Finnick at all - in fact he looks at Peeta in amusement and pockets his phone. “That’s not a very sensible thing to say in a police station, Peet,” he answers back calmly. “I can see that prison has already changed you.”

 

Katniss sees Peeta’s face turning bright red in anger and quickly tries to defuse the tension. Although Finnick’s a great friend and means well, he’s not the type of guy to have around when there’s a worrying dilemma. He likes to joke around and make fun of serious situations; Peeta once told her it was a defence mechanism stemming from something that happened in his childhood. Katniss didn’t want to pry and press for details, and she knew that Peeta would never betray Finnick’s trust, so she’s always let his behaviour slide when things like this came up. “I’m going to go and talk to Haymitch about getting you out of here,” she responds back kindly to Peeta, hoping her words will calm him down. “Finnick, come with me.”

 

“Lead the way, Mrs Mellark,” Finnick says, following a few steps behind her. “Don’t worry, Peet,” he calls out over his shoulder. “I’ll take good care of her when they cart you off to the big house,” he adds with a chuckle.

 

“Finnick,” she says, sighing heavily as they reach the front reception area. She looks up at him with exhausted eyes. “Please go and wait in the car.”

 

Finnick’s cheeky smile drops, and a look of understanding reaches his eyes immediately. “He’s knows what I’m like, Kat. Trust me, it will all turn out fine.” He looks off to the side, and Katniss follows his gaze. They see Haymitch back at his desk, hanging up the phone. “This isn’t a big deal – try not to stress, Peeta will be out of here before you know it.” He gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll see you in the car,” he tells her, walking towards the front entrance.

 

“So what’s the deal?” Katniss asks, moving herself into Haymitch’s line of sight and clearing her throat. “Will he be fined? Have to do community service?”

 

“Community service?” Haymitch scoffs, comically. “Most people see that as a form of punishment - for our boy here, that’s just him doing his regular weekends.”

 

“So what then?”

  


“Nothing,” Haymitch shrugs and leans back in his chair, his legs resting again on top of his desk. “I spoke to Miss Trinket from the council,” he catches her eye with a slow-forming smirk. “And the charges have been dropped.”

 

Normally she would love nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his haggard and liver-spotted face, but relief washes over her immediately, and it’s all she can concentrate on. The nervous butterflies that were fluttering around in her belly earlier have now stopped. “So that’s it?” She clarifies.

 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he reassures her. “She was pretty furious at first, but everybody loves a good love story. As soon as I told her the details about why your boy did it, she thought it was the most romantic thing she’d ever heard. So he’ll be let off with a warning.”

 

“That’s really great news.” She knows she should thank him - her brain is telling her to thank him - but her mouth isn’t cooperating. She sees him staring at her with an expectant look. She groans internally and swallows down the bile that threatens to come to the surface at the thought of thanking the surly man who was her father’s best friend and who’s been riling her up ever since she could talk. She bites the bullet because she knows it’s the right thing to do. “Th - thank you,” she rasps out, her tongue feeling dry.

 

His eyebrows quirk up, clearly not expecting to hear those words, but he lowers them quickly. “You’re welcome.”

 

She nods her head in acknowledgment. Nothing more needs to be said between them on the matter.

 

“Darius will take him down to the washroom so he can clean himself up before you leave.”

 

Katniss nods, and she shifts her purse over to her other shoulder just for something to do.

 

“By the way, I thought you might want this,” he says, rising from his chair and bringing along with him an A4 size piece of paper. As he moves closer towards her, Katniss can make out that it’s a photograph. “Something to keep as a souvenir, or proof to show any rugrats of yours that their father was a rebel. Or you can burn it for all I care,” he mutters, handing it to her. She recognises the layout immediately. It’s a police mugshot. A mugshot of _her_ husband, and it’s not what she was expecting. The man in the photograph looks different than the man she just saw stressed and upset sitting in a jail cell. It’s her husband for sure - _P. Mellark_ written on the board he’s holding proves that, but there is no weariness or desperation about him. This man’s eyes are hard and piercing, captivating her instantly and causing jolts of excitement to resonate in her lower belly. She’s never seen this look on her normally friendly and mild-mannered husband before – his face is hard and controlled, and he’s giving off an ‘ _I don’t give a fuck’_ vibe to the camera. She can’t fathom what Peeta must have been thinking when this was taken, and she also can’t understand why the funny sensations in her belly are now increasing and extending down to vibrate between her legs. Not to mention the dampness she is starting to feel collecting in the bottom of her underwear. _What is wrong with me? Why is this photograph affecting me so much?_ Katniss can’t believe she is attracted to this type of image. She’s always been attracted to her husband and desired him sexually, but something about Peeta in this mugshot, looking like the town’s most wanted and knowing he’s broken the law, is awakening something inside her - something she didn’t even know existed.

 

She’s brought out of her lustful daze by the heavy tread of familiar footsteps. She lifts her eyes up from the mugshot and meets her husband’s relieved ones. He gives her a shy, nervous smile – nothing like the image of the man in her hands. Her eyes rake over his body, noting the black pants that hug his ass to perfection, as well as a black sweater that highlights the broadness of his shoulders and the muscle definition in his arms. He combs another hand through his messy hair, and Katniss’ eyes drop to the patch of skin now bare and on display just above his waistband. All defined and hard. Instinctively, she licks her lips in response.

 

“Don’t worry, the ink will come off after a few washes,” Darius says, coming up behind Peeta and giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Here’s your beanie.”

 

Looking red-faced and embarrassed, Peeta holds out his hand to take the black knitted material, but before he does she notices the dark ink stains that Darius must have been talking about blemishing the tips of his fingers. _They must have fingerprinted him._

As Peeta heads in her direction, she feels her eyes begin to glaze over and a series of images materialise inside her head, like her brain is playing its own private movie. She recognises the two figures immediately - it’s her and Peeta, and they’re inside his jail cell, which is now bare and dirty. He’s dressed in his black gear, except that his pants are hanging just below his hips and she’s wrapped around him like a vine. With strength like Hercules he’s holding her up against the grimy cell bars like she weighs nothing, and his ink-stained hands are running all over her body, leaving clear evidence of his explorations. He’s looking at her with possessive and lust-filled eyes while his hips pound against hers hard and fast; his cock driving in and out of her pussy with a force she’s never felt before. He huffs vulgar remarks into her ear about how wet she is and that he can’t wait to fill her up. He demonstrates his power by sucking and biting her shoulder while she lets out little squeals of pleasure as he hits that amazing spot inside her over and over again. The hard outline of the bars feel so good against her back, and she hears the sound of voices approaching. They’re going to get caught. With a series of heavy grunts, and the roughness of his hands pulling her hips towards his, he demands her to come on his cock – and now!

 

“Hey,” Peeta says, softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and forcing her out of her erotic daydream. He gives her a hesitant but gentle smile. “Are you alright? You’re breathing a little funny.”

 

Katniss’ head snaps up, and she blinks her eyes a couple of time. “I’m fine,” she manages to rasp out and to her surprise her voice has a husky quality to it. Her nipples have tightened considerably under her white t-shirt, and she’s relieved she’s wearing a padded bra to hide her desire from all the men in the room. She quickly places the mugshot into her purse and plasters a fake smile onto her face. “Let’s go home.”

 

As he follows her out to the car, she feels like she’s drifting, like her mind wants to take off again, so she uses all her strength and concentration to walk down the front path lined with beautifully-scented primroses. Through the haze, she can hear Peeta saying words like, “I’m so sorry I embarrassed you with all this - I’m so ashamed” and “I can sleep on the couch tonight if you’re mad at me.” She involuntarily shakes her head - her brain is not giving her a reprieve or the words to reply to him right now because it’s too busy thinking about the vivid and stimulating images she’s just had of them having hot and dirty sex in his cell.

 

They’d lost their virginities to each other almost a year ago, and since then their sex life has always been enjoyable - sweet and passionate, but it’s what her friend Jo would call ‘ _vanilla’_. Peeta has always been able to give her an orgasm, but the act has never been on the side of primal and raw, nothing like ripping each other’s clothes off and fucking each other for the sake of fucking. And there is certainly never any dirty talk from either of them. They only stick to a couple of positions, and Peeta refuses to take her from behind. “You’re not a dog, Katniss, and I’m not going to treat you like one,” he told her one day. “I want to look into your eyes when we make love.” But remembering the man in the mugshot and the carnal scene from her daydream, she knows something inside her has been unleashed, but she’s not sure if she has the courage to share her thoughts and explore it - she finds it difficult to talk about sex, even with her husband. But she can’t deny she loved the roughness and the wanton needs and demands coming from her husband’s mouth in her daydream. Seeing the love of her life like that was such a huge turn on - it’s like her brain has finally shared a long-awaited erotic secret with her, and the news has spread like wildfire, travelling down to her pussy and giving her core a delicious preview of what could await her.

 

As they get into the car, Finnick starts talking to Peeta, but she doesn’t comprehend much of their conversation because she’s too focused on how wet her underwear is. She feels uncomfortable and squirms in her seat. She’s never been a religious person, but if she was to step through the threshold of a church right now, she wonders if she would burst into flames. She overhears Peeta saying he can’t wait to get home and have a shower. Silently agreeing with his statement, she thinks she could use one herself. She just prays that the spray of the icy cold water will shock her into forgetting about tonight’s events and the images it invoked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy the next part.

Over the following days, as small towns go, the gossip mills are in full force, with rumours spreading to every nook and cranny about Peeta’s arrest and the circumstances behind it. Like Miss Trinket, all the women in town think it is the most romantic thing they’ve ever heard, a love story for the ages apparently, and - according to Peeta - they were all now flirting with him and giving him heart eyes. The men, however, couldn’t care less. It was just one more thing to bring up in between a round of beers down at the local watering hole. To Peeta’s immense relief the scandal doesn’t seem to have a negative impact on the business of the bakery. In fact, over the ensuing days his numbers double, and to Katniss’ annoyance he hasn’t brought home any leftover cheese buns because he’d sold out; this just adds to her frustrations. She hasn’t been able to get away from her _‘bad boy Peeta’_ fantasy since Wednesday night, no matter how hard she’s tried – and deprivation from her favorite food just makes things worse.

Their one year wedding anniversary is tomorrow, and she’s feeling uptight and strung out, like a rubber band that’s about to snap. His mugshot, which is still haunting her day and night, is currently hiding in the recesses of her bedside drawer. Peeta caught a glimpse of it when they’d gotten home that night and immediately started to apologise for the fifth time. He said he never wanted to see it again because he didn’t want to be reminded of his lapse of judgement and his brief disrespect towards the law. She reassured him it was okay and that she’d burn it - and she had intended to, but when the time came she couldn’t do it. She’d stood frozen with the match in her hand, unable to lower the flame. It was like she was about to rid herself of something she was just beginning to understand and accept.

With Peeta at work this morning and her shift at the school not starting until after lunch, Katniss tries to keep herself busy; she cleans, pays the bills, and even manages to successfully cook Peeta’s anniversary dinner, hiding it at the back of the fridge so that it’s ready to be dished out and served for tomorrow night. All these are mild distractions and do nothing to remove the gentle pulsing inside her core, which hasn’t left her alone since Wednesday night. Very quickly, Katniss realises she isn’t going to survive much longer without some kind of relief, so with her self-control dwindling, she walks swiftly into her bedroom, closes the blinds with a flourish, and strips off all her clothes, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor  – _may as well go all out and do this properly_. Bending down to her bedside drawer, she pulls out the evidence of her desire and the star of her fantasies.

Laying down on her back, she stretches her body out and gets comfortable amongst the bed’s cotton sheets. Holding up the image of her husband with one hand, she stares up at it, taking in his firm and masculine features as her anticipation grows. She glides her other hand across her body, using soft touches at first, but quickly pressing harder as she knows her body is craving roughness.  She touches her chest, palming and massaging her own breasts, and with every tweak of her nipple she lets out a sweet sigh as the buds tighten and tingle at the sensation.

Wetness starts to leak out from her pussy, smearing across her upper thighs, and her hips begin to rotate in shameless need.  Lowering her hand, she bypasses her belly button and skates over the small patch of dark pubic hair and her buzzing clit. Her calloused fingertips reach her warm and welcoming lips and she feels like she’s died and gone to heaven. Dipping a finger inside, she is immediately shocked at the amount of wetness seeping out of her, and dutifully adds a second digit to join in. As her fingers start a delicious rhythm, pumping in and out of her tight walls, she arches her neck back and takes another glimpse of the image in her hand. Her husband is looking down at her so intently, with such dark eyes, that she has to slow her ministrations down, afraid she’ll come right there and then. _Holy hell. Not yet._

With a loud groan she removes her hand and slides it up to rub the sensitive flesh of her clit. “Oh, yes,” she sighs, and her eyes roll back inside her head. As she picks up the pace, determined to chase the bliss, her teeth dig into the plump flesh of her lips, and she loses her grip on the mugshot. But she’s too far gone to retrieve it, and right now she doesn’t need it, as a new fantasy comes to life. 

They’re back in his jail cell. She’s standing naked against the bars and he’s halfway across the room, silently staring back at her. His eyes are careful and dark, his pupils blown, and his gaze drifts up and down every inch of her naked body like she’s a piece of exotic art at an exhibition.  He looks different though - he’s wearing black leather pants, but is shirtless so that his gloriously defined muscles and pecs are on full display for her viewing pleasure. His skin is glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights of the cell, and Katniss swears she can see droplets of sweat run down his abs. His hair is longer too - dirtier and messier - like he hasn’t washed it in days. She aches to run her hands through it, to caress it and then grip it by the roots. To her delight, he’s also showing off the early stages of an impressive beard. Her legs squeeze together, wondering what it would feel like to have his head and that beard rub against her sensitive inner thighs. She can’t take much more of this - she needs him _now._

“You’re a naughty girl, Katniss.” Peeta’s strong, baritone voice echoes against the concrete walls as he moves towards her, and she thinks her heart skips a beat. “You know you shouldn’t be here – you could get caught.”

“I needed to see you,” she manages to exhale.

Peeta stops in front of her, breathing her in before his lips curl into a knowing smirk. “I know – I can smell the desire all over you, not to mention your pussy juices have been running down your legs since the moment you got here.” He purposefully licks his lips and leans in closer, his warm breath fanning across her cheek. “You want it so badly, don’t you?” He whispers huskily. “My wet mouth on you? Licking and sucking every inch of your luscious cunt, my tongue drawing more and more of your sweetness out until it’s pooling in my mouth.” 

“Oh my god,” Katniss gasps, her neck arching back and making her head hit the bars behind her. She thinks she can hear voices nearby again, but at this point she doesn’t care - the whole town could be standing a few feet away from them and she still wouldn’t change a thing. Her legs begin to feel like jelly, like it’s becoming too much work to remain standing because her brain is too occupied with what’s going on between her legs and the wondrous specimen in front of her. Sensing her dilemma, Peeta’s strong hands reach out to grip her hips, each finger digging into the softness of her skin, and she wonders if she’ll bruise.  He looks down at her with a heated gaze and a smug expression. “I’m going to go down on you now, and I want you to hold onto the bars behind you. Don’t let go.”

She’s lost all coherent thought now and just nods her head in agreement. She puts her arms above her head, stretching behind her to grip the rusted bars. She involuntarily widens her legs, giving Peeta plenty of room.

He smiles wickedly at her. “Good girl, but maybe these will help.” He reaches behind him and pulls something out of his back pocket. _Handcuffs._ “I stole these from the guard,” he states, holding them in her line of sight.

“Yes,” Katniss gasps. “Please, Peeta.”

He reaches up and wraps each cuff around her wrist, the bars making it impossible for her to move. She watches through molten eyes as he bends down in front of her, curling one of her legs over his shoulder, and his thumb and forefinger spreading her open for him. He leans forward, inhaling deeply, and sighs in contentment. “After I make you explode on my tongue, I’m going to turn you around, bend you over and pound into that beautiful pussy of yours from behind. I’m going to come so hard I’ll be dripping out of you for days.”

“Yes! Please, Peeta,” she whines, rolling her hips in need.

The scene in her head doesn’t last for long - she’s been wound up for days, and the image and dirty talk from fantasy Peeta is too much. The moment she envisions the heat of his tongue gliding up her slit and sucking on her clit she comes undone. The image of the jail cell is gone, and she becomes aware of the bed underneath her, one hand still rubbing furiously over her clit while the other one grips the bed sheet in a death grip. Her head arches to the ceiling and a hoarse scream comes flying out of her mouth. For a few blissful minutes the only sound in the room is her erratic breathing as it tries to level out and return back to normal.

Sighing contentedly, she rolls over to lay on her side, but before she can close her eyes and give in to the exhaustion, they fall upon a photo frame that’s proudly displayed on their bedside table – a wedding photo of her and Peeta. Taking in the adoration upon his face and his obvious devotion to her, the feeling of euphoria that was brought on from her orgasm diminishes in a heartbeat and is replaced with hot, liquid guilt.

She feels terrible that she’s having all these thoughts and feelings, and masturbating to a fantasy of who he’s not, behind his back. She groans and covers her eyes with a pillow. She knows she needs to talk to Peeta, and quickly. Her desires are changing, and deep down she knows she wants to explore all that with him - if he’s willing.

                                                                                                                ---------------

“Yes, Peeta! Please don’t stop,” she gasps, removing her hands from the tight hold she has on the bed sheets and gripping his broad shoulders in encouragement. With every heavy breath he continues rocking his hips into the cradle of hers.

He balances on his hands, looking down at her sweetly, his eyes shining big and bright. “You’re so beautiful,” he pants out.

She reaches up to wipe away a strand of sweaty hair stuck to his forehead and looks deep into his eyes. “So are you.”

Soft groans fall from his lips, and he leans down to meet her in an open-mouthed kiss. With a sigh, Katniss wraps her arms around his neck and swivels her hips more to meet his increased, but still measured, thrusts.

The night had been filled with their regular routine; they’d both come home from work, Peeta made a delicious pot pie for dinner with his homemade golden pastry, they discussed their day, watched a bit of television, and got into their warm bed to cuddle. Katniss was hoping by that time she’d have the courage to talk to him about what’s been going on with her lately, but she gave up the moment he untangled her braid, swept her long hair off her shoulder, and began applying butterfly kisses along her neck. This was his signature move, so Katniss knew immediately where tonight was headed. She lost all sense of coherent thought once she’d felt his weight settle on top of her and his cock push inside her. It was a huge relief after days of her mind being taken over by erotic fantasies. There was nothing more satisfying than feeling Peeta’s hard cock rubbing and swelling inside her with every thrust.

Closing her eyes, she lets herself be consumed by the delicious feeling building inside her and the intoxicating scent of cinnamon and dill that is covering her like a warm blanket. Without thinking she grips his hair _hard,_ and a deep groan escapes his mouth, vibrating against her lips. The sound sends an exciting jolt down to her lower belly and causes a familiar pair of hard and intense eyes to fill that part of her brain where there is still space left for conscious thoughts. _The mugshot stare. There’s just no escaping it - he’s taking over my mind again._ “More, Peeta, please,” she begs.

Peeta lifts his upper body off hers, balancing on his hands again, and drills himself harder inside her. He lowers his head with a choked sound, the sensation clearly becoming too much for him.

Although he’s increased his speed, it’s not enough. She needs _more_. So much more that she feels the emotion of frustration starting to rear its ugly head. A small part of her feels guilty about this new development - she’s never felt frustrated having sex with her husband before, but now with the lingering imagery of _‘bad boy Peeta’_ in her mind, her body is craving and starving for more. Before she knows what’s happening she blurts out in a ragged and frantic voice, “Please, Peeta! Just let go and fuck me! I’m not going to break.”

Peeta’s head snaps up, his eyes flashing at her. He slows down his strides, his features glazing over in confusion and… _curiosity_. “What did you say?”

Slightly embarrassed by her words and the desperation behind them, her olive, sweat-slicked skin flushes red from her declaration. It’s now or never, she thinks, and continues circling her hips to encourage him to increase his strokes. She wonders if she can bring her thoughts to the surface and ease them gently into the conversation. “You didn’t like what I said?”

“Not exactly,” he pants. “It’s just you…we don’t…” he breathes unevenly, not able to form any words.

Swallowing her fear, she digs deep to find her bravery. Meeting his ocean blue eyes with an intense stare she whispers in a rush, “I want your big cock to fuck my pussy hard. Make me come!”

Peeta’s eyes widen again, almost to the size of saucers, but she swears she feels his dick twitch and harden even more at her words. _Maybe he does want more_. _He seems to like dirty talk, at least_. He takes her words literally, getting up onto his knees, pushing her hips up and holding onto her tightly as he drives into her harder and faster.

“Rub my clit,” she demands through straining teeth as she bites her lip. With every rough and unmeasured thrust hitting inside her perfectly, she swears she’s starting to see stars behind her eyelids. She’s never felt so free and liberated.

Following her explicit instructions, he moves one of his hands down to her clit and uses his fingers to massage hurried circles onto the aching flesh.

“Oh! Oh, my god! Yes!” She calls out, loving the feel of his calloused fingers. She’s flying higher than she’s ever felt before, and it’s indescribable.

“Oh! Oh, Kat, I’m going to –”

“Me too!”

They come together with a shout and a roar echoing along every wall in the house. She feels his fingers dig deep into her hips to the point of pain, but she savors it, treasuring the feeling. She blinks up with satisfied eyes and sees Peeta with his back arched, his mouth hanging open and his head straining up to the ceiling like he’s in prayer. Soft grunts fall from him with the final jerk of his hips as he finishes emptying inside her. Once done, he pulls out of her gently and lands next to her on his stomach with a satisfied groan.

Katniss puts a shaky hand over her heart like she’s trying to calm it down from the outside, unable to suppress her grin. “Wow.”

Peeta chuckles and leans over to give her a sweet kiss on the lips. She can taste sweat clinging onto his upper lip and moans at the saltiness.

“Wow is right,” he murmurs. “That was…something.” He looks at her with flushed cheeks, like he’s embarrassed all of a sudden. Turning over to lay on his back, he gently coaxes her to join him. Her head finds its place on his chest, and her arm drapes over his waist as they lay in silence for a few minutes, each of them enjoying the afterglow of being together and experiencing something profound. His hand finds its way into her dark locks, softly stroking the strands and curling a piece around his fingers. “Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” He asks carefully. “It’s never been like that.”

Butterflies start fluttering around in her belly out of nervousness. Now that the heat of the moment and her desperation has been satisfied, she’s not sure what she should say and where to begin.

Sensing her nervousness and her mind ticking over, Peeta reassures her. “You know you can tell me anything?”

She lifts herself up from his chest, balancing on her forearm, and looks down at him, but avoids meeting his eyes, instead concentrating on the structure of his jaw line. “There is something I want to talk to you about, but um…you won’t judge me or get upset, will you?” She whispers.

“Nothing you say can upset me. I love you, and I will always love you,” he tells her sincerely, picking up one of her hands and bringing it to his mouth for a sweet and tender kiss.

She smiles, but still avoids making eye contact with him. Ever since they were sixteen she’d always felt safe confiding in Peeta; he’s her best friend and now her husband, and she’s sure he’ll understand and be grateful for her honesty. In the past she’s never been good with words, especially ones that reveal her desires, and now she’s about to share with her sweet-natured and kind-hearted husband that she has an overwhelming need for _more._ Something more intense and feral in nature. _Will he understand and not take offense or judge?_ Swallowing her nervousness and throwing caution to the wind she blurts out the first sentence that’s on the tip of her tongue. “Do you ever just want to fuck me?” _Nice one, Katniss._

“What?” His voice shocked, and it takes him a moment to gather his bearings. “Of course I want to make love to you. All the time,” he adds, his tone laced with confusion.

“No, I mean, not make love, but just…fuck me, like do you ever just want to ravish me like an animal and have your way with me? Just…fuck me for the sake of fucking?” She inhales a hurried breath and brings her eyes up to meet his. He’s staring back at her, looking perplexed.

“I…I don’t want to treat you like you’re a piece of meat, like you’re my…sex toy.”

“It’s not like that – we’re in a loving and trusting relationship,” she tries to explain. “I mean we’ve never even had sex outside this bedroom, and it’s always on the bed.”

“Well, excuse me if I want my wife to be comfortable while we’re making love,” he says, his tone hurt, like she’s just slapped him. “What is this really about? What are you trying to tell me?”

Frowning slightly, now not sure if she’s doing the right thing, she crawls away from him and leans over the bed to pull out the mugshot from the confines of her bedside drawer.

Hesitantly, she hands it to him.

Peeta’s eyes go wide in shock as they fall upon the familiar image. “Why do you still have this?” He asks, snatching it out of her hands. “Why are you still hanging onto the image of the most embarrassing moment of my life? I thought you burnt this?” He says, his voice rising high in disbelief.

“It’s not like that at all,” she reassures him and scrambles back over to him. “I didn’t keep it to hurt you…I kept it for me,” she confesses quietly. 

A few moments of silence fall upon them before his voice breaks it. “Katniss,” he says, his voice almost pleading. “Please tell me what is going on with you.”

Licking her dry lips, she looks deep into his intense gaze. “I _like_ that picture of you,” she admits quietly. “I was turned on by it.”

His brows narrow, not sure how to comprehend what she’s just revealed to him. “How? What exactly turned you on?” He asks, baffled.

“Knowing what you did – what you risked for me, and then seeing you in this photograph.” She points down to it, emphasising her point. “You look so powerful and strong in it, like you’re the town rebel who doesn’t give a damn.” She stops, hoping to get some clue of what he’s currently thinking, but his face remains stoic. Biting her lip, she continues, “This photo made me feel things…things that were different and exciting. I imagined you doing things to me…in your cell.”

“What kind of things?” He asks hoarsely, like his throat is swelling up.

“You would say dirty and vulgar things to me, and you would…fuck me against the bars so hard – like a wild and untamed man.” She feels heat rising from her cheeks - she can only imagine the shade of red they’ve now turned during her confession. She studies him carefully for a minute as he seems to process every word out of her mouth. She thinks he’s about to reach over and grasp her hand, but instead he lifts his hand up to rub away some liquid that has escaped out of the corner of his eye. _A tear. Oh my god, I’ve made my husband cry!_

“Peeta!” She gasps, clearly horrified and guilt-ridden at the scene before her. She grasps both his hands in hers tightly and uses her thumbs to rub soothing circles into his palms. This always works for her when Peeta does it when she’s upset – although Peeta has never been the cause of her despair. Ever. _I’m the worst wife in the world!_

“So what you’re saying is that sex with me is boring?” He chokes out.

“No! Of course not, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I love you so much, and I only want you.” She brings both his hands up to her mouth and emphasises her love for him by peppering his skin with kisses. “I just brought this up…to see if we could switch things up a bit…to explore new things…new positions…”

“So you want me to be rough with you? Hurt you?”

“No, I don’t want you to hurt me. I’m not asking you to smack me around, Peeta,” she says, starting to become exasperated. “I’m just asking…don’t you just want to let all your inhibitions go and fuck me with everything you have? Be spontaneous and just come up behind me in the kitchen one day and just take me from behind?”

He ignores her questions, and Katniss can tell by the flush in his face and the stiffness in his shoulders that he’s angry and getting on the defensive. He pulls himself out of her grip and stands up from the bed, creating some distance. “You know I thought something was going on with you,” he shares, bending down to pick up his boxers and jeans. “I thought it had something to do with my arrest, that you were disappointed in me about my behaviour.” He grabs a clean shirt from his drawer and puts it on. “And, yes, it turns out I was right, but little did I know that you’ve been loving it and getting off on the whole situation.”

He picks up the mugshot, his face distorted in disgust at his image, and he sarcastically retorts to her, “I’m sorry I’m not the rebellious _bad boy_ for you. I’m sorry I’m not making lov – _fucking_ you in every position and in every space in town.”

“Peeta, you’re overreacting,” she states, getting up and putting her clothes back on. She now stares at him from across the room, their marital bed between them. The sheets, wrinkled and untidy, clear evidence of their lovemaking, now look like a symbol of the tangled mess they find themselves in. “You know I’m no good with words, and I hate that I’ve upset you over this,” she hears her voice cracking under the strain and pressure of her confession tonight. “Our sex life is not boring – I love you,” she implores.

“But I’m not satisfying you. That’s what that sex was about, when you were talking dirty and telling me to do things…I’m not good enough…you want more…you want me to be rougher… try things I might not be comfortable with?”

“No – not if you don’t want to. All I’m suggesting is that maybe we try some different positions and find another place in the house to have sex.” She tries to play it off lightly, but by the look in Peeta’s eyes she can tell his manhood has been hit hard by her confession - his pride and confidence have taken a beating. She hates that she’s made him feel this way. 

They stand in silence for a moment, Katniss fearing the unknown and Peeta in sadness. The happiness and afterglow of sex has vanished from the room, and is now replaced with hurt and vulnerability. “I think I might stay at the apartment above the bakery tonight,” he announces quietly, grabbing his shoes.

Katniss’ eyes go wide in anguish. “No, Peeta. Please don’t leave.”

“I just need some space,” he says in a defeated tone.

“Will you come back?”

Slowly, he walks over to her, his eyes looking weary and his face full of pain. She aches to touch him, hoping the action will show how much she loves him and needs to keep him here with her, but she doesn’t dare make contact with him because she doesn’t feel she has the right. “I’ll be back tomorrow night after work,” he says, leaning down to give her forehead a soft, but brief kiss that barely registers on her skin. “You’ve had a big day. Go to bed and get some sleep,” he tells her, and with that he walks out of the room.

Katniss stands there in silence, tears threatening to fall down her cheeks and her heart threatening to jump out of her chest. She hears the front door click shut and the sound of his car backing out of the garage and driving down the road. She’s alone. _What the hell happened tonight? Where did I go wrong?_ _Was I too upfront? I should have handled it differently. Peeta’s a sensitive and sweet soul, of course he was going to take offense_. Her body falls onto the bed by the force of her sadness, sinking into the wrinkled sheets as a wave of melancholy washes over her. Her brain tells her she should follow Peeta’s advice and go to sleep, that surely it’ll all be better in the morning. But the way crippling despair is reaching out for her from the empty space on the bed that Peeta usually fills, she’s not so sure.

The one thing she does know for certain is that she’ll be getting very little sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for leaving it here. The last chapter will be posted soon. 
> 
> Please don't judge Peeta too hashly...
> 
> As always you can contact me on here or on my tumblr: peetaspikelets


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy the chapter.
> 
> As always thank you to @sponsormusings and @papofglencoe for their beta skills.

Katniss eventually falls asleep in the early hours of the morning, although the constant tossing and turning from her brain working overtime and the musky scent of Peeta on the pillow beside her makes it a fitful one. For a moment when she wakes up, just before lunch, everything is right with the world until she remembers the events of last night - particularly Peeta’s hurt face and him leaving. She never thought she’d be spending her first wedding anniversary alone.

After finding the strength to pull herself out of bed and taking a shower, she makes herself a chicken and salad sandwich for lunch while debating with herself whether to check her phone to see if Peeta has contacted her. After an agonising hour she finally has the nerve to sneak a peek. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if there was nothing there from him, but to her heart’s relief he’d texted her a message a couple of hours earlier.

_Peeta: I’ll see you tonight._

That was it – no ‘happy anniversary’ or’ I love you’, just four simple words to cling onto for the rest of the afternoon. She knows when he comes home they’ll have to have a serious discussion, but today also marks a special celebration for both of them. Her plan for a romantic dinner with his favorite dish of lamb stew and dried plums was still happening, regardless. Tonight was about showing her husband just how much she loves him and how happy he’s made her since she became his wife.

As dusk makes its way into the sky, she knows Peeta will be on his way home from the bakery soon. She’s wearing a strapless orange dress for the occasion, with her hair out in soft curls flowing down her back. She usually doesn’t like to wear dresses - wearing one on her wedding day was the exception - but when she’d seen this dress in town the other week, she’d thought it would be perfect for the occasion because it was Peeta’s favorite color. 

She grows anxious and her palms start to sweat from nerves as time continues ticking by. Quickly, she places their meal into the oven to heat up while she goes about setting the dining table, laying out a white linen cloth and placing in the centre a bunch of freshly picked flowers from their garden that bring a subtle, but sweet, scent to the occasion. Walking back into the kitchen, she bends down to the utility cupboard next to the sink to look for some candles and matches.

While searching, she tries not to let her mind wander to last night’s events _again_. But she’s worried about how tonight will go. She knows she hurt him – badly - that’s a given, but she was left hurting too. He told her she could say anything to him, and when she did, he got angry and left. At the age of twenty-two, they’re still so new to understanding the concept of marriage, navigating their way through all the ups and downs it entails and learning what it means to be in a committed relationship. Marriage is not just about love, which they have plenty of, but there has to be trust and openness there – it needs to be a safe haven for both of them.

Standing back up with the box of candles in her hands, she opens up the pack, hoping none of the tapers have snapped. She wants tonight to be perfect and elegant.

Before she can step away from the counter she feels a strong presence up against her back, the weight holding her in place while a calloused hand sweeps her hair off her shoulder. Her body momentarily stiffens for a second in fear before she catches the distinctive scent of cinnamon and dill, followed by a warm puff of air on her neck that instantly makes her skin tingle. Her body and mind relax instantly, accustomed to the familiar and loving gesture.

Although she’s happy he’s here, she can’t believe she didn’t hear his heavy gait sneak up behind her. “Peeta, I’m –”

“Shh,” he hushes her, his voice so deep and strong that the force makes his chest rumble against her back. “Don’t say a word.”

Katniss’ mouth shuts automatically at his demand, his tone and request foreign to her ears. She stands still as one of his hands drifts down her side, carefully fingering the material of her dress, and then quickly he wraps his arm around her waist like a snake, using a strength she didn’t know he possessed as he pulls her closer to his body. Next, she feels his mouth leave wet, open mouth kisses along her shoulder, causing her to let out little sighs of pleasure. Distractedly she drops the candles and uses her hand to hold onto the counter, her fingernails digging into the wooden benchtop for balance, while the other one holds onto his forearm that’s wrapped securely around her body. She helplessly arches her neck back, encouraging him to increase his ministrations. Soft moans and the occasional yelp leave her mouth as his lips glide across her flesh, now nipping and biting like he’s marking her as his. The feel of his unshaven face prickles against her sensitive skin and sends an excited jolt straight to her belly, causing her whole body to shudder.

Clearly enjoying the reaction he’s getting from her, Peeta lets out a loud groan and unexpectedly puts one of his feet in between hers, pushing them apart so he can step in between her thighs. “Put your arms around my neck,” he commands.

She’s not sure what’s gotten into him, but the way he’s giving her orders and the feel of his growing erection on her lower back is arousing her, causing every nerve ending in her body to light up and respond like it’s on fire. She allows the weight of her body to sink into his embrace as she wraps both her arms around his neck, her hands linking together and lightly gripping the waves of his dishevelled hair – like he hadn’t bothered to style it today.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growls into her skin, sucking at her neck, his hands drifting down into her dress to palm and fondle her breasts. “Perfect tits.”

 _What? Oh my god!_ Katniss eyes roll back into her head at his unaccustomed use of dirty talk. Nevertheless, in response she feels an immediate gush drip from her core, soaking her underwear. “Yes, Peeta –”

“Quiet. I told you no talking.” His voice comes out hard and uneven, like gravel.

Wanting to obey him, she tries hard not to speak; just a few whimpers and whines escape her throat as he pinches her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. It causes her to arch her neck back even further so the crown of her head hits his chest and her grip of his hair to tighten.

“This is what you want, don’t you?” He rasps in her ear, removing one hand from her breast and travelling it down to her underwear. He pulls the material away and dips his fingers inside, finding a copious amount of arousal already coating her pussy lips. “Oh – oh my god, Katniss…” he chokes, surprised at the evidence his actions are already having on her. He pushes two digits inside easily, her walls squeezing and wrapping around them in welcome. “You’re really loving this aren’t you?” He breathes out heavily in awe. “Oh, shit…”

She doesn’t answer him, just continues with the illusion that she’s not allowed to talk and instead uses her body to communicate what she needs, rolling her hips in quick, fast circles to meet every thrust of Peeta’s fingers. Feeling inspired, she lowers one of her hands down from Peeta’s hair to palm his cock through his jeans behind her back. This action seems to awaken something in him, as he lets out a loud growl like a mammal in heat and shoves her hand away from his cock so he can unzip his jeans. “Bend over,” he demands.

She leans down, laying her forearms on the counter in front of her, while his hands lift up the hem of her dress. A sudden ripping sound fills the room. She’s not sure whether she should feel disconcerted until she sees scraps of material fall between her legs and land in a small pile of the floor. _Holy shit!_ Her clit buzzes on high speed in excitement and she feels more moisture gathering at her entrance. _Did_ _Peeta just rip off my underwear?!_ A rumbling sound hails from the back of his throat like he’s answering her question.

“Such a beautiful ass,” he compliments, gripping and palming her ass cheeks in his warm and masculine hands. He then lowers one down to dip inside her pussy again, while the other one grips his erection. “It’s like it’s pouring out of you,” he claims in wonder, his hand travelling back up her body, leaving remnants of her desire on various places of her olive skin. He grips her hip tightly, while the other hand pumps his cock a few times before aligning it at her entrance.

 _Yes. More. Now. Please._  Her body is screaming out for her husband, for him to plunge inside her and take her to a place where she can let go and see stars. She feels the head of his dick slip easily inside her walls, but he holds it there, not moving, just teasing her. With a whine, she pushes back, urging his cock to find its way deeper inside her, where it will bring her intense pleasure and relief, but his fingers only dig into her hips tighter, holding her in place.  He leans forward, placing some of his weight onto her back, and breathes against the shell of her ear. “Beg for it.”

With just the tip of his cock inside her, the huskiness of his voice and the feel of the rough texture of Peeta’s jeans against the back of her bare thighs, she’s more than happy to beg at this point. “Please, Peeta, I beg you, please fuck me.”

“How do you want me to fuck you?” He asks gruffly, his hips rolling and teasing her slowly. The heaviness of his breath against her cheek tells her he’s close to losing restraint. Katniss doesn’t want to wait another minute - this is what she’s wanted to experience and explore with Peeta since he got arrested, being together with raw and carnal passion. She can’t believe this is happening, not after last night, but here he is, her wonderful and loving husband, fulfilling her desires without argument. She knows they can’t pretend that their fight didn’t happen, and she knows they’ll talk about it, but right now, in this time and space, it doesn’t exist. It’s only her and Peeta. Together.

“Fuck me hard,” she begs, “I want to feel everything.”

Without preamble he plunges inside her, his cock coming home, blanketed within her tight inner walls.

“Oh, yes! Thank you,” she cries out in relief, pushing her hips back to meet his fast and enthusiastic thrusts.

“Fuck, yeah,” he chokes, clearly overcome. He moves a hand to one of her shoulders to keep her in place. “Take my cock.”

She moans in delight at the way he’s holding her down and the foreignness of his words as they rip through her and reach the throbbing nerve endings of her clit. His thrusts are so powerful and forceful that she feels like she’s being taken over and possessed. The warm and harsh pants of his breath hit her cheek as she realises he’s draped some of his weight over her back and his hands have now gripped the counter next to hers, the stability of it aiding his movements as he continues driving furiously into her.

“Why haven’t we done this before?” He gasps in between each thrust. “This is amazing, I – fuck - I’m so deep inside you, it’s like I’m touching your womb.”

“Oh yes, yes,” she breathes out, incredibly turned on by his words. Talking about her womb makes her insides clench around his cock tighter, it’s like she’s being led by an ancient force that’s deeply embedded within her. “Come inside me hard,” she pleads.

He lets out an audible groan that makes Katniss wonder if the next door neighbors know what they’re up to. He lays his hands on top of hers, their sweaty fingers gripping each other tightly and he growls into her neck. “Kiss me.”

She turns her head, her lips searching for his, and then his mouth is there with plunging tongue and clashing teeth. It’s messy, dirty, and wet. Their mouths move uncontrolled in likeness to their lower bodies that are working together on instinct. They breathe into each other mouths like they’re sharing a life force, supporting each other to keep climbing until they reach the summit.

“Come for me,” he exhales. Katniss opens her eyes and notices sweat dripping down his nose. Her back feels hot and sticky with her dress and Peeta draped over her body, but there’s no way she would stop and change it for the world right now. It’s the first time he’s ever taken her from behind, and she’s loving it - the weight of him, how his cock is hitting _the_ spot inside her, and the emotion of being taken by her mate, there is something feral and primal about it. A series of shrieks fly out of her mouth when she feels his hand find her clit and begins to rub it in quick, harsh circles. Within a few revolutions of his fingers, the sensation in her lower belly grows and expands, suddenly rupturing. Her pussy tightens as she comes, her walls milking his thrusting cock as waves of pleasure burst forth and consume her. She shakes under his weight, breaking away from the fierceness of his kisses to sing out an ear-splitting scream, which rings across the room.

His hips continue snapping against her ass a few more times, helping to prolong her orgasm for as long as possible. His thrusts become jerky, erratic, and she knows he can’t hang on for much longer. “Feel me,” he tells her as he plunges in one last time and let’s go. Spurts of cum shoot from his cock, filling and coating her walls as he stills his hips and lets out a roar, biting down on her shoulder. They stay that way for a few moments, each of them breathing hard and heavy as they come down from their highs and relish in the feeling of euphoria. He comes to his senses and quickly pushes himself back, moving his weight off her. With her eyes closed and her chest heaving, she feels him take her gently by the arms and pull her down with him onto the kitchen floor, guiding her to sit in his lap. They both look untamed, wearing bits of clothing between them, red and sweaty skin and wild and messy hair. Chest to chest, with her legs wrapped around him and her head laying on his shoulder, they sit there for several minutes not saying a word. Peeta rubs soothing circles on her lower back and breathes in the scent of her hair. 

“Well,” she breaks the silence. “I was planning on an elegant evening for tonight, but so far there’s been nothing elegant about it,” she jokes, lifting her head up from his shoulder. Her exhausted eyes smile kindly into his. “What was that?” She asks softly, her vocal chords a little hoarse.

“Well, I told you I wanted to give you something spontaneous and romantic for our anniversary,” he chuckles breathlessly.

“Mission accomplished,” she grins. “And the dirty talk – wow, I’m impressed.”

Nervous laughter fills the room, and his cheeks turn a light shade of red, matching the bashful look on his face. “Yeah, well – I was caught up in the moment…and I thought you’d like it.”

“I loved it,” she offers, leaning down to meet his lips. “Thank you.”

Their kiss is gentle and chaste, nothing compared to a few minutes ago. They move together languidly, cherishing the taste and essence of one another, until Peeta breaks off the kiss with a quiet gasp. He cups her cheeks into the palm of his hands and stares deeply into her eyes.

“Happy anniversary,” he murmurs.

“Happy anniversary,” she repeats, before quietly adding, “I’m sorry.”

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he reassures her, his thumb outlining and stroking her jaw. “I’m the one that should be apologising – I left after I told you that you could tell me anything. That was wrong. I should have stayed and talked it out.”

“I wish you had. But I understand - you were upset.”

“I was feeling pretty wounded,” he confesses, moving his hands down to rub her forearms gently. “But I did a lot of thinking today, and I realised that what I’m feeling about this has nothing to do with you - it’s me and my issues,” he reveals, taking a steady breath. “You were brave to share all that with me, and I’m glad you did. After I stopped feeling sorry for myself, I realised you made some good points about our sex life.”

“Like what? And what do you mean by this is your ‘issue’?” She asks, her brows narrowed in confusion.

She watches as Peeta’s head shifts slightly, giving the air a quick sniff. “We can talk about it later,” he promises, then turns his attention towards the oven across from them. “But for now, tell me what that smell is - it’s so familiar.”

She allows her important questions to remain unanswered for now, as she knows she can take Peeta at his word that he’ll tell her later, and instead turns her head in the direction of the delicious smell that is wafting through the kitchen. “It’s my surprise for you,” she tells him, getting up eagerly. She can’t believe, with her brain being turned into sex-addled mush, that she almost forgot her gift to him. “Why don’t you go and make yourself comfortable and I’ll bring it out for us? I know I’ve worked up an appetite.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he murmurs, standing up to join her and pulling her against his body. “Come find me when you’re done,” he says, and gives her a light smack on the bottom before he leaves.

Katniss stands there surprised for a moment, taken aback by her husband’s behaviour – although, after tonight’s amazing sex, she thinks she might have to get used to this new Peeta. After adjusting her dress, she bounds over to the oven, biting her lip in anticipation about what they could get up to later tonight, but first she knows they need to replenish their bodies and eat. Katniss dishes up one bowl of stew, figuring they can share it, before topping it with aluminium foil and carry it out to the dining room. Very quickly she notices the absence of her husband, along with the two stemmed glasses and the bottle of wine she’d left in the ice bucket.

Curiosity leads her down the hall towards the bathroom, where she can hear the bathtub filling up with water. Opening the door, she’s taken aback by the dozens of candles carefully placed, lighting up the room with a gentle warmth. The sweet combination of orange and jasmine fill her nostrils as it rises up from the scented bubbles in the tub. It all looks so romantic and welcoming, especially her husband, who is standing in the middle of the room wearing nothing but a beaming smile and holding out two glasses of wine. “Only the best for my wife,” he declares.

“Peeta,” she smiles, accepting his offer and feeling astounded that he managed to do all this within just a few minutes. “This is beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful,” he states, not missing a beat and taking a step closer. “You know sometimes I still have to pinch myself - to remind me this is all real, that you’re my wife.”

“Well, I have been for one whole year now,” she retorts smartly, taking a sip of the sweet, straw colored liquid.

“I know, but it’s the fifteen year old inside me that still doesn’t believe it,” he chuckles. “He thinks he’s about to wake up from the best dream he’s ever had.”

She shakes her head in amusement. “Speaking of your childhood, did you want to see what I made you?

“Yes, please. You’ve got my interest piqued,” he tells her, taking their wine glasses and setting them down onto the nearby basin.

Katniss lifts up the covering aluminium foil triumphantly. “Ta-da!”  She watches carefully, curious for his reaction.

“Is this?” He leans in closer. “It looks like –” His eyes grow wide in astonishment, and a huge grin lights up his face. “It’s my Grandma Sae’s lamb stew! Oh my god, you made this? I haven’t had it in years,” he rushes out excitedly.

“I know. I re-created it for you,” she tells him proudly. “I just hope it tastes the same as you remember,” she adds, now feeling nervous. She did sample a spoonful earlier, and she thought it was delicious, but she has no idea if it tastes the same as he remembers. 

He picks up the proffered spoon and takes a cautious bite, the meal still steaming hot from the oven. Chewing carefully, he lets out a pleased groan and closes his eyes like he’s experiencing bliss. “It tastes exactly the same,” he reassures her and takes the bowl out of her hands, putting it on the sink next to their glasses. “Thank you,” he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close to him. She leans her head down against his firm chest and feels his heart beating underneath her ear. It’s a beautiful sound, the familiar rhythm bringing peace and calm to her world, and she feels herself sinking into him. “Hey, don’t fall asleep on me just yet,” he jokes. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up before the water goes cold, and then we’ll eat.”

Agreeing, Katniss strips out of her clothes, while Peeta steps into the tub, making himself comfortable. She takes his offered hand, allowing him to guide her into the warm water, and sits down between his legs. She leans back against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her tenderly, holding each of her hands in his. The only word she can think of to describe what she’s feeling right now is - thankful. Thankful to whatever being or cosmic power on earth that brought this wonderful man into her life. A man that deserves to be loved and cherished for the rest of his life. A man who stepped out of his sexual comfort zone to try and give her something she wanted. Is there anything this man won’t do for her?

She plays with his fingers affectionately, covering each of them with the soft, foamy bubbles. She’s yearning to know what Peeta meant when he said. _“It’s me and my issues.”_ This is the first time he’s ever brought up having any sort of issues. He’s always so relaxed and easy going about things, so it comes to her as a surprise. The only thing she can think of is that it could have something to do with his father.

Peeta was the youngest of his brothers and at just fourteen, his father had run off with another woman. His infidelity was the talk of the town for months, and it left his wife and children social pariahs. But luckily that didn’t last long, and if you asked anyone now, you’d find that the Mellark name was well-respected and valued within Victors County – she knows this has a lot to do with Peeta and how active he is within the community.

But surely something as traumatic and hurtful as a parent’s betrayal and abandonment would leave some kind of mark on his sensitive soul. For the first few years they were together, she never knew how to bring it up with him, and he’s never opened up to her about it or given the topic in question the light of day. Maybe that’s about to change.

It’s like Peeta reads her mind and breaks through her thoughts with a simple but life-affirming sentence. “I think I got so upset about you wanting to change our sex life because it made me think of my dad…and what he did to my mom,” he reveals, sounding sad. “My mom wasn’t good enough for my dad – and I felt you were telling me I wasn’t good enough for you.”

“Oh, Peeta, no – never,” she twists herself around in his arms so she’s now facing him directly. His eyes are tinged with sadness and it breaks her heart. “You are good enough for me,” she reassures him, stroking his chest. “In fact, you’re better. The way you love me and take care of me…” she halts, overwhelmed by the lump forming in the back of her throat. Her eyes start to water. “I could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve you.”  

“That’s absurd – you need to stop listening to Haymitch,” Peeta reprimands, his eyes burning a fierce, liquid blue. “If it came down to it, I would choose to live one lifetime with you as my wife than one hundred lifetimes without you by my side.”

A single tear falls down her cheek at his words, and, as promised, he is right there wiping it away. “I never wanted to change our sex life,” she explains softly. “I just wanted to explore…these new urges I was having…with you.”

“I know,” he nods his head, giving her a small smile. “ _Change_ was the wrong word to use. And, besides, I really should be flattered,” he chuckles lightly, trying to break the emotional intensity they now find themselves in. “When you brought it up – I felt like I was in two different minds about it, like someone hijacked my brain. A small part of me was excited because of course I want you like that – I want you in every way I can get you,” he divulges. “But something’s been holding me back – and I think it’s been holding me back ever since we got together,” he states, absentmindedly tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “We aren’t religious people, and these days it’s very rare to find a couple who’s been together for five years and haven’t had sex.”

“You wanted to wait until our wedding night because you wanted it to be special,” she reminds him.

“Yes, I wanted it to be special because it’s…you,” he agrees, smiling at her with a hint of shyness. “But I think there was another reason.”

“Your parents?” She guesses.

“Yeah.” A look of resolve washes over his features. “It came to me all of a sudden yesterday, like it’s been locked up inside me for years and our argument was the key to unlocking it.”

“You’ve never brought up what happened between your mom and dad before,” she says gently. “I’ve always wanted to know so I could be there for you, but I didn’t want to push you.”

Peeta goes silent for a moment, his brows narrowing and lips pursing like he’s contemplating

something. “I always thought I had the best dad,” he says, his words wistful. “He was kind and loving, but as I got older I started to see a different side of him – the real side, I later found out,” he adds, mournfully, taking her hands into his. “I would always hear them arguing when they thought my brothers and I were asleep. The last few years it got pretty bad…that’s how I found out my dad had cheated. The barmaid he ended up running off with wasn’t the first,” he utters in disgust.

“I’m so sorry, Peeta,” she tells him. “That must have been difficult to hear.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, lowering his head. “The perfect image I had of my father was shattered that night.”

Katniss rubs his hands, offering him comfort and support. “I’m here, Peeta.”

He takes a deep breath and lifts his head. “I remember when I was thirteen, I overheard them arguing about their sex life – just what every child wants to hear when they get up to fetch a glass of water,” he adds sarcastically. “My dad was unhappy and wanted to try _new things._ I’m not going to mention what they were because I think I’ve mentally blocked that part out, but I could tell it made my mom uncomfortable.” He cringes at the memory. “Not long after that, my dad took off.”

“Has he ever tried contacting you or your brothers?”

“Not one word,” he shrugs, like it’s unimportant. “I wouldn’t want anything to do with him anyway.”

“He’s still your father, though,” she reminds him softly.

“I don’t see him like that anymore. He’s just an egotistical man whose self-gratification meant more to him than his entire family.” He states it like it’s a fact, with no emotion. 

She nods her head in agreement - she can’t argue with that conclusion. With stiffness forming in his shoulders and a hard look materialising in his eyes, she can tell the whole ordeal is starting to get to him and he doesn’t want to discuss it anymore, but she has one more question to ask. “So when I brought up trying new things in the bedroom, it brought back bad memories for you?”

“Yeah – I think that’s why I overreacted and got upset. I don’t want us going down the same path they did. If that ever happened to us,” his voice breaks, “I would die, Katniss.”

She gets up onto her knees and wraps her arms around his neck, her face inches away from his. “That will never happen to us,” she assures him. “We aren’t your parents – we’re Katniss and Peeta, or what Finnick likes to call us, ‘Peeniss’.”

A robust laugh escapes his mouth, shaking the tension out of his body. Katniss smiles and joins in, their sombre mood lifting immediately. “Thank you,” he murmurs, placing his hand at the back of her neck to bring her closer so their lips can meet passionately. It’s a kiss filled with love, faith, and honesty. He caresses her everywhere, skimming across her skin, mouthing light pecks across her cheeks, her nose, her neck, and her shoulders, before resting his forehead on hers with a contented sigh.

“I love you and I trust you,” she whispers, reciting a part of their wedding vows.

She feels his face grow into the biggest grin. “I love you and I trust you,” he repeats back, with profound warmth.

With goofy grins now lighting up their faces they press their lips together again, but before their bodies can give into the temptation that is slowly building between them, a shrill and peculiar noise makes it presence known, from outside the bathroom window. The sound is loud enough that it shakes the glass, and they both jerk back in shock.

“What the hell is that?” Katniss shrieks, turning herself around to face the window. Her lips feel bruised from all their kissing, and her eyes show a hint of fear at the unexpected disturbance.

“Stay here, I’ll go and check,” Peeta tells her, getting up from the tub and wrapping a towel around his waist. He walks over to the window sill and, with some effort - as it rarely gets opened - he pushes the ridged windowpane up and tentatively sticks his head outside.

“What is it?” Katniss asks, after a few moments of silence. Peeta doesn’t move, just continues staring. “Peeta?”

“Come here,” he whispers eagerly, hurrying her over with his hand. “I think it might be – but I’m not too sure, you might have a better idea than me.”

Scrunching her eyes in confusion at his vagueness, she regretfully hops out of the warm water and wraps a towel around her body. She slides up beside him, placing her head out next to his. Following his direction, it only takes a moment for her to realise what Peeta is looking at and her eyes to go wide in surprise. “Oh my god – it’s a mockingjay!” she splutters. There, sitting in their apple tree enjoying the early evening air, is a medium-sized bird with beautiful, dark feathers and piercing eyes that are looking straight at them. Everyone knows what a mockingjay looks like, thanks to the textbooks at school, but Katniss thinks the pictures haven’t done it justice. The creature is majestic.

“I don’t think anyone in the county has seen one in seventy-five years or so,” Peeta says in disbelief.

Katniss’ mouth curls up into a smile. “I guess the odds are in our favour then,” she says, remembering the old wives tales about what happens when you see a mockingjay.

The wind rustles the tree, disturbing the mockingjay’s peace, and the breeze feels cold against Katniss’ skin, causing goosebumps to rise. The mockingjay lets out a loud tune, like its singing, and then flies away into the darkness of the night.

When it’s flown out of sight they both lean away from the sill and push the window back down. “That was something…” Peeta’s voice wanders, still clearly surprised. “I never thought I would see one in my lifetime.”

“Me either, but they say it’s a good omen,” Katniss comments, wrapping her arms around his waist and gazing up at him. A long and happy life with this man would be a wonderful thing indeed. “Maybe we should make a wish,” she adds jokingly.

“Speaking of wishes,” Peeta’s voice suddenly turns husky, and his hands travel to the swell of her breasts. He unties the knot she made with the towel and lets it falls to the floor in a heap. His hands move down to her ass, where he massages the cheeks roughly. “I’m going to need more details about these fantasies you’ve been having of me – are you up for it?” He asks, his eyes glinting with renewed desire.

Katniss feels the butterflies in her stomach awaken and start flapping around in excitement, and her body involuntarily shivers in anticipation. “I think I can be persuaded,” she tells him, licking her lips and trying to sound seductive.

“Good.” He tells her, lifting her up and holding her close to his body. He looks deeply into her eyes, his irises now a stormy blue. “You better hold on tight, Mrs Mellark,” he growls, “Because tonight I’m going to be fucking you in every room of the house.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it folks! Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> More to come soon.


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